Golly it's Been Awhile . . .

Well fuck. It's been quite awhile since I last wrote. This can be chalked up to one major reason: lack of motivation.

Let me give you some background.

I am, now, officially considered stable. I don't know for how long. 6, 10 weeks? Longer? Shorter? I'm not really sure. But see, my stable is different. My stable isn't what most people would necessarily consider stable. Why? Because I still cycle. I still have mood episodes. The catch is that they tend to be much shorter - hours to a day or two - and therefor more manageable. And this, according to my psychiatrist and therapist, is my normal. That I'm as stable as I'm going to be.

And what's gotten me stable? Med wise, lithium, Prestiq, and Latuda. But then the big guns, ECT (electroconvulsive therapy - shock treatments). The ECT is doing most of the work and I get zapped every other week (just got zapped yesterday in fact). My psychiatrist thinks I'll need ECT indefinitely. Do we know that for sure? Of course not. But that's how it's looking. And I'm okay with that, as long as it continues to work. Because it is allowing me to have some semblance of a life.

With all that being said, my short mood episodes can still be extreme. I've cut in the last month, felt dangerously suicidal, and have had anger so intense I was close to destroying a display in a store and hitting someone (irritable hypomania). And these episodes can happen at any time, for any reason.

But here's the annoying bit: this perpetual lack of motivation. It's not just for writing, oh no, it goes for my artwork, working out, cleaning the house. . . . It's pretty all consuming. As the last few weeks have gone by, I think the reason has become more apparent - underlying low grade depression. This has especially become apparent over the last week. I'm the queen of low grade depression. I've dealt with it my entire life - at least since 4th or 5th grade (I started cutting in 6th). So I know what I'm feeling.

And what I'm feeling is no bueno.

I wake up in the morning wanting to stay in bed, go back to sleep, because the day is too much for me to face. I shower, but I don't care if I do my hair or put on makeup. The motivation isn't there and I see no point to it (because there's no point to anything). On my days off I don't want to do anything (except maybe nap so I can wake up and feel better, which never happens). I try. I try and paint or clean or read. But it's so fucking hard because I just don't care. On days I work I don't want to talk, don't want to interact. I want to do my job and be left alone. But I force myself to talk, to joke, to act like myself. My close friends point out that they know something is off. But at least I try.

However, with the low grade depression I still can joke and interact and do my job well. I still can genuinely enjoy my hubby and son's company. And I'm typically not suicidal and don't get the urge to cut as much. So it's better than it could be. But it still fucking sucks. Because depression, no motivation, potential to get worse.

So anyway, I think that's all for now. It's been an obnoxious morning but I got a workout in (even though I almost broke down crying in the gym - thanks depression). There might have been more I was going to write, but I've lost it for now. I'll try and write more frequently.

Toodles.